Love the Way You Lie
by Face of Poe
Summary: Jag sees Jaina for the first time since she left him for Kyp. Set ambiguously post-NJO. dark!songfic based on Skylar Grey's song Love the Way You Lie. Themes of emotional and physical abuse, rated a strong T


**Disclaimer 1**: Characters are property of Lucasfilms LTD- I am just twisting them (quite a bit in this case) for my own sick amusements.

**Disclaimer 2: **This is based off of Skylar Grey's _Love the Way You Lie_- it's a good song, go check it out (related to, but not quite the same as the Rihanna/Eminem versions, fyi)

**A/N:** **WARNING**: this songfic/vignette has pretty dark themes of emotional abuse (and some physical abuse)- if this bothers you, don't read it. Don't say you haven't been warned.

**Rating**: A strong T

**Love the Way You Lie**

**I. **

"Are you still seeing Kyp?"

She'd been staring absently at a cup of caf, running her finger around the edge, mind a thousand kilometers away while he gave the obligatory rundown of the important parts of his life since they'd last met. A vague smile touched her lips and she looked down again, shrugging lightly.

"Is it serious?"

"Jag…"

He stared at her carefully, trying to catch brown eyes that were determinedly lowered to the table. "You're distracted and quiet- it's unlike you."

She took a deep breath and forced her eyes up to his. "It's… complicated, what Kyp and I have."

"But real enough that you'd leave me for him." She flinched. "I'm sorry." He sighed and ran a hand through his short black hair. "I promised myself a drink between friends." She was silent and staring at the table again. "We're still friends- aren't we? Jaina?"

_On the first page of our story  
>The future seemed so bright<br>Then this thing turned out so evil  
>I don't know why I'm still surprised<em>

She drew a heavy breath. "Yes, of course." Smiling tentatively, she reached across the table and put a hand lightly on top of his. "I've missed you."

Part of him wanted to desperately ask why she'd left then- but he promised himself that he wasn't here for that. In any case, those early months after the war had been difficult, as the emotional toll finally began to fully set in for her. And as much as Jag loved her… Kyp was more readily available, when she needed someone.

He didn't have to like it, but he understood.

"Do you want to go up to my quarters?"

_No_.

"We can talk more comfortably up there."

_No_.

"Jag?"

"Of course."

_Even angels have their wicked schemes  
>And you take that to new extremes<br>But you'll always be my hero  
>Even though you've lost your mind<em>

She made little pretense of her intentions, but there was no passion in the seduction. Only when he thought to voice his objections did she bother to kiss him, even as her hands went to work deftly unfastening her utility belt. It clattered unnoticed to the floor as her fingers went to work with the fastenings on his uniform tunic.

He made little pretense of holding the moral high ground; a day didn't go by when he didn't crave her touch. But a vaguely guilty thought of betraying a man who had once been a friend of sorts, had stared death in the face by his side, ensured that he derive marginally less satisfaction from the act.

Afterwards, he held her small body against him and watched her sleep. The pain bled away in her unconsciousness, made her look young once more, reminded him of the girl he first knew, before war had stripped away her innocence.

_Just gonna stand there and watch me burn  
>Well that's alright because I like the way it hurts<br>Just gonna stand there and hear me cry  
>Well that's alright because I love the way you lie<br>I love the way you lie  
>I love the way you lie<em>

The buzzing of a comlink woke them both; cursing softly under her breath, Jaina reached for it on the bedside table and thumbed it on. "Solo."

A brief pause. "Did I wake you?"

Jag stiffened to hear the voice of Kyp Durron as his brain caught up to where he was and who he was with- and what they'd just done. Strange that so pleasantly familiar an act could now derive all manner of unpleasant speculation about losing limbs to a lightsaber blade.

"Yes."

No further explanation was offered; Durron didn't seem to expect any. "Can I see you?"

Soft brown eyes met pale green as Jag stared stoically back at her. Something flickered in her eyes, so brief he could not see what it was- and when she spoke, it was with a new stiff coldness that was probably lost over the comlink. "Sure; I'll be up in a few minutes."

Jag rolled off the bed and immediately began to dress.

"Can I see you again before you leave?"

He didn't meet her gaze as he straightened his disheveled tunic. "What would be the point?"

**II.**

_Now there's gravel in our voices  
>Glasses shattered from the fight<br>In this tug of war you always win  
>Even when I'm right<em>

The door slid open moments before her hand connected with the cool metal to alert him to her presence. Suppressing a sigh, she stepped inside the small room and raised her eyes to stare at his hunched back as he leaned over the work table, staring at something on a datapad. After a moment, apparently satisfied, he turned back and met her look calculatingly.

"Have a nice nap?"

"Kyp…"

The sting of his palm on her cheek shocked her into submission. He seized her wrist and spun her around so she was trapped between him and the table, her arms pinned by her sides as he murmured lowly in her ear. "The most infuriating part of it all is that I can't even be mad at Fel; even if _he_ doesn't realize what a pawn he was in your little game."

His voice changed, grew almost sympathetic as he pressed against her. "What did you think would happen, Jaina? Did you think he'd take you back? Whisk you away where I can't find you anymore?" She shuddered and he brought a hand to her chin, tilting her face, forcing her to meet his cruel, hard eyes. "Why should I worry about finding you? _You_ came to me."

His mouth met hers, hard, as though he could erase Jag from her mind, from her body, from her soul.

_Cos you feed me fables from your head  
>With violent words and empty threats<br>And it's sick that all these battles are what keeps me satisfied_

Kyp's voice was like a low hiss in her ears, like a swarm of angry insects. "You came to me, Jaina," he repeated. "Just like you did the first time. Just like you always will." She shuddered as his fingers lightly caressed the sore spot where he had just slapped her. "You still love him, don't you?"

A cry of fury accompanied her first tears, and the violence of her struggle against him caught him off-guard, gave her room to spin around and land a couple of blows against his chest. Easily overpowering her, he seized her hands and held them close, pulling her body against his as he pressed his forehead against hers, murmuring soothingly to her.

"Shh," he whispered. "It's okay now, you're okay. I forgive you, Jaina."

Releasing her surrendered and stilled hands, he drew her into his arms and rubbed her back soothingly as she sobbed against him, eventually catching her as she began to slide to the floor in her grief. Lifting her slight frame easily, he carried her to his bed and laid her gently down.

He sat at the table and watched as she cried herself to sleep.

_Just gonna stand there and watch me burn  
>Well that's alright because I like the way it hurts<br>Just gonna stand there and hear me cry  
>Well that's alright because I love the way you lie<br>I love the way you lie  
>I love the way you lie<em>

Tender words and soft touches reaffirm his love for her, his forgiveness. Gentle fingers brush over her bruised cheek and he kisses it carefully as he apologizes.

"I'm sorry," he breathes against her, "I didn't want to hurt you, Jaina, but I forgive you now so it's okay…"

She lets him kiss her fully, passionately, lets him imagine that she responds in kind even as he can surely sense her indifference.

They are both taxed emotionally by the events of the day.

**III.**

_So maybe I'm a masochist  
>I try to run but I don't wanna ever leave<br>'Til the walls are going up  
>In smoke with all our memories<em>

Jaina woke in the middle of the night, cramped and claustrophobic, but she did not bother trying to move out from under Kyp's tight grip around her waist. Some battles were best left un-fought.

For the briefest of moments, she contemplated going to Jag the next day and doing precisely what Kyp mockingly suggested- get him to take her back, have him take her away somewhere where Kyp would never be able to find her again.

In the back of her mind, she wondered if the bruise on her cheek was dark enough, fresh enough, that he would notice it the next day, unlike the older, faded ones he had overlooked earlier.

In the back of her mind, she wondered whether he was willfully ignorant of her fearful desperation when their eyes had met over her comlink, or just plain oblivious.

In the back of her mind, she wondered- _What would be the point?_

_Just gonna stand there and watch me burn  
>Well that's alright because I like the way it hurts<br>Just gonna stand there and hear me cry  
>Well that's alright because I love the way you lie<br>I love the way you lie  
>I love the way you lie<br>I love the way you lie_


End file.
